Friday, October 12, 2012

We Never Say Goodbye


Last time, I parted from my beloved family. My friend told me that it’s always hard to say goodbye. And it really was, but I wonder why there is an aching word in English called goodbye, and I don’t feel like using it and I have never used it also. “We never say goodbye,” I told him. “We don’t have a word for it. I said them only to stay well and see them.” I explained to him.

Truly, as per my dictionary, two major Bhutanese languages; Dzongkha and Sharchop don’t have words called goodbye. We believe in coming back. We believe in reincarnation. ‘We only part to meet again,’ says John Gay.

We have Kuzuzangpo for hello, but this greeting is used regardless of the time of day, denoting that Bhutanese believes the time is the same and it should remain same throughout the life. There is no good evening, good morning generally in Sharchoph. We have a Kadrinchhe for thank you, but we say Lashom bay  joen (if the person is leaving) and Lashom bay shug (if the person is staying) it literary means ‘go nicely’ or ‘stay well’ and it is not equivalent to the word goodbye. And in Sharchop we use Tshingai rumey na which actually means ‘see you in future’ and there is no other equivalent words for goodbye.

So I never say goodbye to my loved ones. I say only Lagpan choina (stay well) believing that we will meet again.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

A Huge Talker


A huge talker is a person who talks so much. And I have heard about it a lot. But I have never encountered it till recently. He is my new Bhutanese friend in Bangalore (name withheld for personal reasons). He talks too much, so very too much I think so. Gross indeed. He opens his mouth from the time he wakes up and closes only when he sleeps, given the chance. A good talker is a good listener, we say. But he is not.

I would like to narrate an incident of his unending talks. Once we were walking to buy some vegetables in the market. He went on talking from the door we left... up to the vegetable market. “I was this…that…when I was…I would like to…my life…” Everything about him and his life. Many a time, I was shammed to be listening to him. I felt like running. “Ya, ya.” Is all that I can say. And the return journey was all about vegetables; the shapes of the vegetables, the texture of it, the mixture with it, the cost, and his likes. “Ya, ya.” Is all I can say.  

He would talk about his family, his wife, his studies, his and his, everything good about himself. Talking about oneself is not always good, I imagine; it doesn’t interest others but internally knowing oneself is important, most important than others; I push on. I would like to state that he is not an empty vessel, as he sometimes talks the wisest talk than life could offer. Anyway, happy that I have to stay with him for two or three days, not a garrulous future-forever.

The opposite of him is perfectly me. I am non-spoken most of the time. I am tacit, kind of babyish tantrums inside. I listen and can listen as much as I can. But his talks break my nerves, I couldn’t. It reaches the limit, and it seems like a barking dog, and now, and I hope I may get fed up listening to others’ talks in the future.

The climax of all his talks comes from social media Facebook. Very recently he has opened his account. He talks with it. He comments on every piece of post and photo. He sent hundreds of requests to unknown people and chats with unknown online. I squeak with a peal of big laughter every time he sent to unknown girls. And surprise it may seem, he gets a reply from some and become good friends. And that is how a seemingly insane person kicks his talking desire when I don’t give a damn to his talks.

Communication is complete when the listener can decode and encode the messages. The exchange of messages or information is effective when it is worth and appreciated. It’s understandable.

The Bad Things of Good Things


“Ask! Ask! If you don’t know. Inquire, if you want to know. Ask Zangpo, why I drink often a lot. Zangpo knows all. He sees me as I see. He does what I do. He cares for me like nobody else.”

Once upon a time, flowers bloomed. The fruits were dunned and dropped before anyone could pick. No one could eat the fruit. Hoped and desperation hung in the empty spaces. Everyone was left alone.

Alone, to me then, and now, I need to survive. How will I survive when I have given part of my heart and life? It takes a long time to mend the life like before, that was so full. My broken heart sinks and cuts like a knife. But why did you do such things? Our friendship has been pretentious. Rich friends have rich hearts of love, sounds now befuddled to me. I’m retracing now that you have just shown me the duplicity of friendship.

“Birds of the same feather flock together,” read it when I was in seven standards. So were Pasang(name changed) and me, who became fast friends in a distant school in the capital. Similarities attract each other. We were silent. We were the first time. Ours were innocent parents.

Pasang as I observed as the days began to move was too conservative, hardworking, divinely religious, self-praised, did not drink any kind of liquor and had the best habit of always volunteering to be the class captain or some such like others. In this sense, I was quite different; I was always silent observer, and I sometimes sneaked out silently from the class and drank in melancholy moods.

When days and the months passed, we were seen and regarded as friends by other fellow mates. So, the chance of having other friends was less. You can’t befriend all in the school, if you are, you have no true friends. This happens in school life. You can’t befriend the time with all.

Seeds of friendship were planted spontaneously. Our surroundings said so. Hence, we shared to eat, to study together, sometimes in my house and occasionally in his house. I supposed we became true friends then. He was our volunteered captain. We were in a different class then. Many mates of his cursed him for being so authoritarian in the class and refused to have him the next month's captain. So I guessed he lost the future chance.

Life rolled on. The youth was the age of rupture. Everything ruptured in a wee time.

After two years, we were again in NIE, Samtse as a training mate. He was different then. I had have always considered him as a friend, anywhere, everywhere, whatever I did. But he was quite different. He ignored me simply. I didn’t mind much. When the days passed, he had begun to win respect from elders and lecturers by polishing and volunteering for them. He himself volunteered to be a house counselor in the first year. The story was the same; many mates hatred him for being authoritative and using his power wickedly. I always thought he was really a bad leader and counselor.

Our friendship became so thin that whenever we meet, he talked little or ignored me. like the petals of the flowers felling one by one, our bonds too broke it one by one. Although, I thought he would help when the there was a need him. The truth was I was under him, in his house captainship, and it was only me who he could make me work SUPW in front of his eyes. I didn’t mind it so much.

I remember vividly, the beginning of the death of our friendship and I took this incident very seriously. What he did to me that day. He himself, without any reason, turned against me completely. It was on the NIE football field. Such a sycophantic person he was one of the judges of the football match. I was a ball retriever. He threatened me to be the retriever, if not; he would report to his other sycophant lecturer, and if I refused to do, that would have created enough problems to lose marks. The ball retriever's job was to get the ball when it went outside. Talking part in games and sports like ball catcher would mean marks to pass our course. Half-match over. Resting time was it? I was about to sit on the empty chair nearby him. And what he said was never to be forgotten and forgiven, “Go, don’t sit here ball boy, go there.” He pointed to the sewage drain. It wasn’t his chair, and the ball boy would usually sit sometimes. I remained silent and sat on the muddy smelling tank. It wouldn’t have been so ashamed if it weren’t for the crowd of girls, who had heard it and were looking at me in an unpleasant way. I had not had a single girl in my life. My face would be on the iron fire if I ever talked with them. The match started. I went to talk with him, but he was damned.

The match got over. The player came for the refreshment. They took out the fruity juice. The juice distributor was about to give me the juice but he came and snatched the juice away from me. Then he turned his back and announced to all the players and judges to drink all juice bottles. I tried reacting to him by saying something in a comical way to make matter light, but he was damned. At that moment, I couldn’t resist, and I was about to hit my best friend. But I controlled. I was really ashamed. What wrong did I do to my true friend? I didn’t realize anything of that. Behind the curtain, I thought something was there in his mind that he hated me so much. I questioned myself that real friends wouldn’t exploit or deride such things among people.

Now I know, some people are like dry leaves, they fall without any use to their own tree. They fall, move here and there for some time, and get blown away, unseen from the mother tree. So are many of our friends.

It was the last thing I would ever see or hear in my life.

I wished for the dearest death! Five years back! The devil-minded friend lost his wife. How deep he loved her. She ran into the jungle to be hanged herself.
A few months later, there was a very devastating letter. I didn’t look at it with surprise.
“Why anyone didn’t tell me of that. It became clear now, that you, my best friend have kept up spirited throughout these many years. I lost my wife for I was mindless and treated like you, Zangpo. I drink my life now.” There was little satisfaction in my mind that he still remembered those bad days. I replied to him, “In life, we remember only bad things; let’s try to forget those bad happenings, and remember good things.” I hoped this small universal lesson would help him.  


DON'T NURTURE FRIENDSHIP WITH SELFISH PEOPLE

Note: The above article is a somewhat true story of the author’s life, though some details are truncated for the brevity of the story.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Being Patience


Within a year in Bangalore, I have learned more one thing, that is to be patient – an ability to wait, most presumably. I have learned that life is not all about me. I have learned to look inwards, not outwards. I have learned to be patient with impatient people. I have grown up, horizontally and diametrically, probably!

I have a few friends who are impatient, and are arrogant, insensitive, and impulsive which even affect relationships altogether. Maybe, on the other hand, I am not getting any younger, I tend to resist everything; get angry slower or often never at all, have the patience to wait, be patient to oppose points, and etc. Previously, I was a patient of patience. I was in emotional upheavals trying to change others before I changed myself. Now I have submitted under patience. Everything changes me, bringing me in order to a circle of the best humanity! I feel I am following one of the principles practices of the Buddha. To have patience is to have respect. I am viewed positively by many friends recently.

I feel the patience can be controlled by letting go of any troubles/impatience completely, absolutely, totally; with no feeling but moving forth. If there isn't anything to resolve, just let it go.  It’s possible, and it's the only healthy thing to do. Accepting the twist and turns in life gracefully keeps my dreams realistic. Life is not always a race but the journey to be watched every step of the way. Patience works in terms of anger, nervousness, tension, or anxiety.

I have changed my attitude and the way I looked at life. I have always tried to have a positive outlook on life. Being always positive is very imperative as possessing a sense of patience.

Once I was like a horrid river, rushing through hills or plans hurriedly, not hinting to any speaker. I was on my own way. My students checked my patience so many times and the result was they got black and blue. I vividly remember picking up a log and raining on their backs. I regret now and feel sorry for losing such behaviors and being so crude and wild. Wilder than the hot dogs. Sorry and sorry seems to be the cruelest word now.

My child has also tested my real patience. My anger changed into passive observer and did what he liked to do let it go. I have developed an ability to tolerate and persevere when things got tough within us. I have become a little anxious about how to keep calm. And I kept. Thank you my dear son for teaching me forbearance and serenity in life.

My wife has also trimmed me down to a better person; a sort of passionate person is who I have become. Otherwise, I used to rant and rave and nag more than many women would have done. Now I am a cool lover of everything.

I can now tolerate many things. I have learned these through many means; patience in anger, patience in sadness, happiness, loneliness, and through every person in the walk of my life. This patience has helped me to endure any tribulation, no matter how long-lasting or difficult. On the other hand, it reduces my stress levels and improves my health and wealth, I feel so, and being able to have patience makes me happier. Thinking about the positive effects of patience kills impatience.

So, patience is persistence. It takes time and it takes effort. We are so accustomed to anger that we find the natural state of patience to be quite strange. However, impatience is outside value that we have but patience is an intrinsic value we have in all of us. We can change.

I would like to let loose my patience to write further with this thought from Lao Tzu, “I have just three things to teach: simplicity, patience, compassion. These three are your greatest treasures.”

The Truth Is

From Google

Dear my beloved

I asked you to care for me

But the truth is; I care about you more than 

anything in the world

I asked you to love me

But the truth is; I love you more than 

anything in the world

Dear, you are my all, my everything.